I don't always sleep well. In fact, sometimes I lie awake for HOURS and HOURS on end. This week has been pretty good. No staring at the ceiling ... at least too much.
But the other night, something woke me up. A sound. I wasn't sure what it was. I waited. Nothing. So I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.
Then I heard it AGAIN. Okay, sometimes my cat George (who has the feline equivalent of OCD) will have one of his "twitchy" moments, and will run around like a racehorse. I looked down at the bottom of the bed, and sure enough he was gone.
I got up, and (our cat) Katie was sitting in the hall looking at the ceiling. I looked at the ceiling. And heard it again. Like thundering hoofs. On the roof.
I went into the guest room and there was George, sitting on the bed, looking at the skylight. He started purring the minute I walked in, self-satisfied, as though saying, "Ha! It's not me."
Then we heard it again. A sound like galloping overhead. Again and again we heard it it. And eventually we saw it: A rogue squirrel. It jumped over the skylight and stopped, its fluffy tail (not a good ruse to hide its rodent-ness) hanging over the skylight.
That's it? A squirrel. Running the Squirrel 500 on my roof at 4:52 a.m.!!!
Moonlight With A French Twist – Reader Feature
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